This Is How You Survived The War
Title: This Is How You Survived The War
Rating: G
Original
Characters: Brooks, Chloe
Warnings: None
Notes: Most, if not all, of the dialogue here is taken from actual text messages between Brooks and I from an actual argument we had. Written for the picfor1000 challenge.
Word Count: 1,000
Prompt: My picture - Breach
Summary: You don't have to cut and run
She scuffs the edge of her black Converse against the rim of the grate, kicking up a bit of grass. “I'm sorry.”
“I know.” He says mildly, not looking at her.
“The way I see it is that if I were the one to walk away from us, you'd be hurt and angry for a while, but you'd get over. You'd move on. I wouldn't. I couldn't. You don't seem to understand how important you've become to me and that scares the shit out of me. I don't let anyone in like I've let you in.” She shifts her weight, uncomfortable with sharing all of this with him, being this vulnerable.
“I wouldn't get over losing you. I don't want to lose you. Why do you think I would?” He asks, frowning at her.
“Because everyone leaves eventually. Even the ones that said they wouldn't.” She doesn't look at him, can't bear to look at him.
“Have I ever given you the impression that I would?” He presses, still frowning.
“No, but I do have legitimate reasons for feeling like this.” She looks up at him, a quick glance before looking back down at her feet.
“And I respect them. I don't question them.” He nods, still not looking at her.
She wishes he would. “That makes one of us. I don't know how you deal with me. I wouldn't, honestly, if I were you.”
He sighs and finally looks at her. “Well, I do. So stop questioning.”
“Sometimes I'm just this ball of stress, worry, and insecurity. I can't help the way I feel.” She's wrong. She doesn't want him to look at her. It makes this even harder, to be this vulnerable.
“I know you can't, but you need to stop doubting me. In all our years of friendship, have I ever given you reason to make you think I'll just leave you?” He asks, an edge to his voice now.
“No.” She admits, looking back down at her shoes. She kicks at the grate again, wishing it wasn't between them.
“No, I haven't. You know, another person would have left with all the doubting and questioning you do, but I haven't. I stay because you're my best friend. Nothing is going to change that, so I don't know why you worry so much about it.” He says, voice gentler now.
“I know and I wish I could stop thinking like this, but I've gone my entire life knowing that anyone could and probably will walk away from me at some point and it hurts. What's worse is that you told me I'm the more invested one here and that makes me feel like I have more to lose that you do.” She takes a deep breath and tries not to let him see how much this is affecting her.
“I know. I've been here with you for years. You think I don't know how you work? We're braintwins. Of course I know. I've seen some of the shit you've been through. I've been there for you for everything since we became friends. I'm not going to walk away. You're stuck with me.” He smiles at her, but she doesn't see it, still looking at the ground.
She glances up at him and frowns, biting her bottom lip. “Promise?”
His smiles gets wider. “I promise. Stop overthinking us. We're the one thing you can be sure of, I promise.”
She sighs again, this time in relief, and steps over the grate, bumping into him with her shoulder, grinning when he pushes her back. “Thanks.”
“For what?” He glances at her as they begin to walk back down the path to the park.
“For being you. For putting up with me when you don't have to.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and toys with the case, a nervous gesture.
“I don't 'put up with you'. You're my best friend. I just go with your flow and calm you down and sooth your ruffled feathers. Don't worry about it. You do the same for me.” Brooks shrugs and looks at her again.
“I know. I just....thank you.” Her fingers pull and twist the edges of the case some more before he pulls it from her hands and tucks it back into her hoodie pocket.
“You're going to tear it or something and then you're gonna bitch about it and I don't wanna listen to you pout.” He grins and pushes at her again.
She glares at him, before grinning again and shoving him back.
“Seriously though, are we good?” He asks, steadying her with a hand on her arm.
“Yeah. We're good.” She smiles at him.
“No more overthinking everything about us and no more thinking I'm just going to up and leave you?” He arches an eyebrow at her.
She blushes and squirms. “No more overthinking and thinking you're going to leave me.”
“Good.” He nods, satisfied.
“Can we go to Starbucks now?” She asks, a slight whine to her voice.
“Yes, you whiner.” He rolls his eyes at her, but it's fond.
“I don't whine. I never whine.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Right. And I'm the Queen of England.” He smirks.
“Well, you are a queen. Just not of England.” She snickers.
“Shut up.” He glares at her while she laughs at him.
“You love me. Don't even try to deny it.” She grins.
“Most of the time.” He says, smirking at her mock outrage.
“You love me all the time and you know it.” She punches him lightly in the arm.
He hits her back. “Whatever you think.”
“It's what I know.” She nods, sure of herself.
“Right, right.” He shakes his head.
This is how they survived the war.
Rating: G
Original
Characters: Brooks, Chloe
Warnings: None
Notes: Most, if not all, of the dialogue here is taken from actual text messages between Brooks and I from an actual argument we had. Written for the picfor1000 challenge.
Word Count: 1,000
Prompt: My picture - Breach
Summary: You don't have to cut and run
She scuffs the edge of her black Converse against the rim of the grate, kicking up a bit of grass. “I'm sorry.”
“I know.” He says mildly, not looking at her.
“The way I see it is that if I were the one to walk away from us, you'd be hurt and angry for a while, but you'd get over. You'd move on. I wouldn't. I couldn't. You don't seem to understand how important you've become to me and that scares the shit out of me. I don't let anyone in like I've let you in.” She shifts her weight, uncomfortable with sharing all of this with him, being this vulnerable.
“I wouldn't get over losing you. I don't want to lose you. Why do you think I would?” He asks, frowning at her.
“Because everyone leaves eventually. Even the ones that said they wouldn't.” She doesn't look at him, can't bear to look at him.
“Have I ever given you the impression that I would?” He presses, still frowning.
“No, but I do have legitimate reasons for feeling like this.” She looks up at him, a quick glance before looking back down at her feet.
“And I respect them. I don't question them.” He nods, still not looking at her.
She wishes he would. “That makes one of us. I don't know how you deal with me. I wouldn't, honestly, if I were you.”
He sighs and finally looks at her. “Well, I do. So stop questioning.”
“Sometimes I'm just this ball of stress, worry, and insecurity. I can't help the way I feel.” She's wrong. She doesn't want him to look at her. It makes this even harder, to be this vulnerable.
“I know you can't, but you need to stop doubting me. In all our years of friendship, have I ever given you reason to make you think I'll just leave you?” He asks, an edge to his voice now.
“No.” She admits, looking back down at her shoes. She kicks at the grate again, wishing it wasn't between them.
“No, I haven't. You know, another person would have left with all the doubting and questioning you do, but I haven't. I stay because you're my best friend. Nothing is going to change that, so I don't know why you worry so much about it.” He says, voice gentler now.
“I know and I wish I could stop thinking like this, but I've gone my entire life knowing that anyone could and probably will walk away from me at some point and it hurts. What's worse is that you told me I'm the more invested one here and that makes me feel like I have more to lose that you do.” She takes a deep breath and tries not to let him see how much this is affecting her.
“I know. I've been here with you for years. You think I don't know how you work? We're braintwins. Of course I know. I've seen some of the shit you've been through. I've been there for you for everything since we became friends. I'm not going to walk away. You're stuck with me.” He smiles at her, but she doesn't see it, still looking at the ground.
She glances up at him and frowns, biting her bottom lip. “Promise?”
His smiles gets wider. “I promise. Stop overthinking us. We're the one thing you can be sure of, I promise.”
She sighs again, this time in relief, and steps over the grate, bumping into him with her shoulder, grinning when he pushes her back. “Thanks.”
“For what?” He glances at her as they begin to walk back down the path to the park.
“For being you. For putting up with me when you don't have to.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and toys with the case, a nervous gesture.
“I don't 'put up with you'. You're my best friend. I just go with your flow and calm you down and sooth your ruffled feathers. Don't worry about it. You do the same for me.” Brooks shrugs and looks at her again.
“I know. I just....thank you.” Her fingers pull and twist the edges of the case some more before he pulls it from her hands and tucks it back into her hoodie pocket.
“You're going to tear it or something and then you're gonna bitch about it and I don't wanna listen to you pout.” He grins and pushes at her again.
She glares at him, before grinning again and shoving him back.
“Seriously though, are we good?” He asks, steadying her with a hand on her arm.
“Yeah. We're good.” She smiles at him.
“No more overthinking everything about us and no more thinking I'm just going to up and leave you?” He arches an eyebrow at her.
She blushes and squirms. “No more overthinking and thinking you're going to leave me.”
“Good.” He nods, satisfied.
“Can we go to Starbucks now?” She asks, a slight whine to her voice.
“Yes, you whiner.” He rolls his eyes at her, but it's fond.
“I don't whine. I never whine.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Right. And I'm the Queen of England.” He smirks.
“Well, you are a queen. Just not of England.” She snickers.
“Shut up.” He glares at her while she laughs at him.
“You love me. Don't even try to deny it.” She grins.
“Most of the time.” He says, smirking at her mock outrage.
“You love me all the time and you know it.” She punches him lightly in the arm.
He hits her back. “Whatever you think.”
“It's what I know.” She nods, sure of herself.
“Right, right.” He shakes his head.
This is how they survived the war.